


Canon!Harry Potter meets Papa Voldemort

by ElliahRose



Series: A guide to Parenting and Villainy [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon!Harry Potter meets Little One, Confused Harry Potter, Crack, Fluff, Gen, Harry Potter is Adorable, Harry Potter is an Inferius, Inferius Harry Potter, Little One and Harry Potter become brothers in this one, Papa voldemort, Parallel Universes, Parent Voldemort, Poor Harry Potter, Possessive Tom Riddle, Possessive Voldemort, Protective Sirius Black, Protective Voldemort, Voldemort is Harry Potter's Parent, Voldemort just adopting all the Harry Potters, Voldemort wants to protect all the Harry Potters, canon!Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:40:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElliahRose/pseuds/ElliahRose
Summary: After throwing himself through the veil to go after his godfather, Harry Potter wakes up in the garden of a strange place. He assumes he's dead and in heaven, but if that's the case, why is Voldemort there?! And why is everyone looking at him weird? Wait... Is Voldemort hisfather?! What is going on?!Meanwhile, Voldemort isn't sure what he wants to do more; Hunt down, torture, maim, and kill his counterpart, or wrap the teenage version of his son up in a pile of blankets and protect him from the world.Why not both?A side story to Little One with Green Eyes.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter & Voldemort, Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Sirius Black & Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: A guide to Parenting and Villainy [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734274
Comments: 94
Kudos: 787
Collections: Canon!Characters Meet, Works worth reading a million times over





	1. Chapter 1

**The Dark Lord’s Castle  
9:03 AM**

Harry didn’t really understand how he got here. He had dove into the veil to save Sirius, and somehow, instead of waking up in some misty void, he awoke in the center of a garden. He frowned, his hand coming up to rub at his scar while he looked around. The garden was beautiful and well-kept, and in the distance, Harry could see a giant, dark, and foreboding castle. He slowly got to his feet, trembling under the weight of his injuries. He took a step forward, hissing as his bruised and battered body protested. 

Is he dead? Is this death? He felt a little put out; he always assumed death was painless. Looking around he struggled to find anything familiar. He just wanted to save Sirius, the only person who seemed to actually care about him. Sirius, Harry thought with a wave of grief, his godfather was gone. Professor Lupin had said that Sirius was gone, but Harry refused to accept this. 

“SIRIUS?!” Harry screamed, looking around. There was no answer, and Harry was beginning to freak out. He was cold, hurt, in a lot of pain, and in an unfamiliar place. He just wanted to go home. “SIRIUS WHERE ARE YOU?!” 

Harry jumped when he heard the familiar pop of a House Elf. “Who’s are you?” a house elf asked, causing Harry to turn around and face it. The House Elf let out a surprised shriek when she saw Harry’s face, hands coming up to nervously twist her giant ears. “Little One…? Yous be big?” 

“I’m sorry can you help me? I don’t know where I am,” Harry asked gently, choosing to ignore the strange question. “I’m looking for someone. Can you help me find him?” 

“Little One be looking for his Papa?” the House Elf asked, her eyes lighting up. “Mipsy be taking yous to your Papa.” 

“My Papa?” Harry asked, his eyes widening. So he really was dead, then? Was this heaven? It was nice, although Harry could do without the agonizing injuries. This House Elf was going to take him to see his mom and dad, though, so Harry supposed it would be okay. “Okay, you can take me to see my Dad. Could you also take me to Sirius?” 

“Yous be looking for Mr. Black?” the House Elf asked in confusion. Harry grinned and nodded enthusiastically. 

“Yes! Yes please!” Harry cried, his hands shaking at the thought of seeing his family. A small part of him felt bad that he was dead now, but mostly he was happy to be free from all the stress and pain that came with being alive. “Please take me to Sirius!” 

“Mr. Black be speaking with yous Papa,” the House Elf said. “Mipsy be taking yous now.” 

Harry grinned, his emerald eyes shining brightly with excitement as he followed the House Elf. She led him through the beautiful gardens up to the scary castle he’d seen. Harry could feel a bit of hesitance creeping up inside him, but he pushed it away in favor of seeing his family again. 

The interior of the castle was actually much nicer than the exterior, beautiful decor and furniture making the castle seem open and welcoming if a bit pretentious. Harry followed the House Elf through the halls of the surprisingly empty Castle---this place is where souls go after they die, yes? So where was everyone?---only to stop in front of a set of huge oak doors. 

“Mr. Black and your Papa be in there, Little One.” the House Elf said, looking at him nervously. Harry smiled at the House Elf gratefully, nodding at the little Elf before he pushed open the grand doors. 

His gaze landed on Sirius’ surprised face and Harry grinned, throwing himself at the man. “SIRIUS!” he cried, tears springing into his eyes. “I thought y-you were gone for good! I’m so glad you’re o-okay!” 

“Um… Who are you?” Sirius asked, looking at him with a funny look in his eyes. Harry frowned before he realized that Sirius was joking and chuckled, playfully shoving his shoulder. 

“Funny joke, Padfoot,” Harry said. “It’s me! Harry! Your godson!” 

Sirius made a choked noise in the back of his throat as his eyes widened, tracing Harry’s figure up and down with disbelief. “H-Harry?” he asked, his voice shaky. Harry frowned at the look of awe in Sirius’ face. 

“Sirius are you okay? You’re acting really weird,” Harry said, pulling back a little. “Is it because we’re dead?” 

“Dead?!” Sirius cried, his voice choking. 

“Yeah, Professor Lupin told me I’d die if I went through, but I couldn’t leave you!” Harry exclaimed. “Is this heaven? The elf said my dad was here, is mom here too?” 

“Harry what are you talking---” Sirius started, only for a frighteningly familiar voice to interrupt him. The voice sent shivers running down Harry’s spine, his face paling as his fists clenched. 

“I’m right here, precious,” the voice said. “Would you care to explain what’s going on?” Harry turned around slowly to see Voldemort sitting in an armchair a few feet away from Sirius. Only, he didn’t look like the Voldemort that had come out of the cauldron, no, he looked like an older version of Tom Riddle. 

“Y-You!” Harry cried, pointing a trembling finger as he took a step back. “What are you doing here?! Did you follow me?!” 

Voldemort frowned as his crimson eyes trailed Harry up and down. “You certainly _look_ like Harry Potter,” he said, leaning forward. “You even have his scar. This is very strange. Tell me, who are you, and why are you impersonating Little One?” 

“W-What?” Harry asked, his eyes wide. 

“I won’t ask again.” came Voldemort’s terrifying response. The red eyes that had been thoughtful before were now hard with the familiar anger and loathing that Harry was used to seeing from him. 

“I look like Harry Potter because I _am_ Harry Potter,” Harry said, his face contorting into a frown. “I don’t know why everyone keeps calling me Little One, though. Um, I’m sorry, how are you here? Did you die too? I thought this was heaven?” 

“You think you’re in heaven?” Sirius asked, looking at Harry strangely. “Isn’t that where muggles think they go after they die?” 

“Yes,” Voldemort answered. “This is obviously a trick of some sort. Someone from the Order must be trying to trick me.” 

“I’m really confused,” Harry said, nervously rubbing his lightning scar. “I don’t understand what’s happening here. One moment we’re in the Department of Mysteries, fighting for our lives then Bellatrix kills Sirius so I follow after him only to end up in some garden and then a House elf shows up and says my dad and my godfather are here but all I see is Sirius and Lord Voldemort, who I’m pretty sure didn’t die with me, and I really just want to know what’s happening right now!” Harry sucked in a huge breath after he finished his rant, risking a glance at Voldemort to see him staring at Harry, looking as confused as Harry felt. 

“Department of Mysteries?” Voldemort asked. “What on Earth were you doing there?” 

“You… You tricked me into coming,” Harry said with a frown. “Remember? You sent me a vision and I came to rescue Sirius, only Sirius wasn’t there.” 

“I did no such thing,” Voldemort said, sounding offended at the idea. “Why would I need to trick you to come to me? I live with you!” 

“You WHAT?!” Harry cried, stumbling backward in shock. “No, you don’t! I… I don’t understand! Is this a dream or something? What is going on?!”

“I would like to know the answer to that, as well,” Voldemort said. “If this is a trick, you are failing miserably. I suppose I’ll have to get the truth out of you one way or another.” 

“W-What are you doing?” Harry asked, flinching back when Voldemort stood, walking over to him. “What are you doing?! Stay away from me!” 

Voldemort clicked the back of his teeth. “Honestly, stop moving away from me. I’m going to look through your mind to see what you know.” 

“What? NO! SIRIUS! SIRIUS HELP ME!” Harry cried, diving behind his godfather. This was not supposed to happen! He was supposed to be reunited with his family in heaven, not run away from Voldemort. Is there no escaping the madman, even in death? 

Harry cried out in fear as Voldemort reached behind Sirius and easily pulled Harry towards him. Voldemort sneered with displeasure at Harry’s attempts to escape his hold but managed to detain him easily. Just as Voldemort was about to look into his mind, Harry was saved by the door opening. 

“I brought Little One---” a voice called, causing everyone to turn and look at the pair standing in the doorway. 

“Wha---Professor Lupin?!” Harry cried. “You’re dead too?” 

“Dead? What are you talking about? Do I know you?” Professor Lupin asked, looking at him in confusion for a second before he breathed in, his eyes widening with a flash of amber. “L-Little One?” 

“Why does everyone keep calling me that?!” Harry cried. “My name is Harry Potter!” 

“Moony who does he smell like?” Sirius asked, drawing everyone’s attention away from Harry. 

“He smells like Little One!” Professor Lupin exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Like, exactly like him! Down to the magic! I don’t understand…” 

“Yeah, me neither,” Harry snapped. “Did you follow me too? Is everyone dead? Was there an explosion or something?” 

“Why do you keep asking that?” Sirius asked. “You’re not dead. At least, I don’t think you are. None of us are dead, either. Well, except for…” He trailed off, his eyes glancing towards the other figure in the doorway. 

Harry hadn’t looked at the other person in the room till now, distracted by Professor Lupin’s appearance and the crazy Dark Lord that still had a painful grip on his shoulders. The figure was tiny, a few inches shorter than Professor Lupin’s knees. He wore a pair of brown khaki shorts and a white dress shirt with suspenders, a bag slung over his shoulder overflowing with green plant-life. He looked like… 

“Is that me?!” Harry cried, his jaw dropping in pure shock. “That’s… That’s _me_! As a baby! What the hell? What’s going on? Someone better start explaining because I’m seriously starting to freak out! Is that---are those _stitches_ on baby me’s neck?” 

The baby version of Harry looked up to meet Harry’s eyes, and Harry gasped at the bright emerald color. It was like looking in a mirror! (If the mirror de-aged you ten years) The baby version of Harry looked at Harry with confusion before his eyes trailed up to meet Voldemort’s. A blinding smile broke out across his face as he ran forward, arms outstretched as he cried, “Papa!” 

That was when Harry lost consciousness.

* * *

“Let me get this straight,” Voldemort said with a sigh, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose with exasperation. After the older version of Little One passed out in his arms, causing Black and Lupin to freak out, Voldemort had carefully set the teen on the couch and lifted his son into his lap, and waited patiently for the teen to come to. When he awoke, he took one look at Voldemort and let out a loud groan, claiming that it wasn’t a dream, before Voldemort demanded an explanation. He then sat there as teen Little One told his story. “You were tricked into the Department of Mysteries through a _dream_ \---” 

“It was a vision!” teen Little One cried indignantly. 

“---and snuck out of Hogwarts without telling anyone to save Black, only to find out with was a trap and then engaged in a battle with people who have years of experience ahead of you, and as you’re about to be killed, Black comes in to save the day, only to be pushed through the, what was it you called it? The Veil?” Voldemort asked, scoffing when teen Little One nodded. “You witnessed Black being pushed through a veil, and instead of heeding Lupin’s sound advice, you decided to throw yourself through the very same veil in hopes of saving him, only to wake up here. That sound correct?” 

Teen Little One nodded. “That’s about it, yeah.” 

“God what was I thinking?!” Voldemort exclaimed. “Do you have any idea how worried I must be? How could you just throw yourself through a veil in the Department of Mysteries without thinking?! Didn’t I teach you to think before you act?” 

Teen Little One frowned with confusion. “Um… what? I don’t know what you’re talking about…?” 

“Obviously this ‘veil’ was a rift through space and time, and by jumping through it, you were transported to my world.” Voldemort said with a shake of his head. 

“Wait, what?!” Harry cried. “Are you saying this is another dimension? Like, a whole other world like mine?” 

“Similar, but clearly very different,” Voldemort said, eyeing the older version of his son with a mixture of jealousy and longing. So this is what Little One would have looked like had he lived. How lucky this other Voldemort was, to have been able to raise Harry. Voldemort loved Little One with all he had, and he was grateful that he could have Little One with him forever, but a small part of him wished that Little One could grow up like Harry could. “A parallel universe, if you will.” 

“That’s so cool!” Harry exclaimed before he frowned with realization. “Does that mean my Sirius is here, too? Do you think we could find him?” 

“The likelihood of your Black being here is very small. Virtually none,” Voldemort said with a wave of his hand. “Your veil acts as a rip through space and time, yes? Now imagine that after you’ve gone through, you’re just floating around in empty space with infinite places to go. You somehow ended up in my universe when you could have ended up in another just as easily. Your Sirius is most likely in some other universe.” 

Harry sank into his seat, a sad expression marring his face. “Oh.” he said in a dejected whisper. Voldemort felt a spike of guilt in his gut at causing the expression. 

“I’m sorry precious,” he said gently. “I know you wanted to save him.” 

Harry frowned. “Why are you calling me that?” he asked, suddenly stiff. 

“What?” 

“Precious?” Harry responded. “Why are you calling me that?” 

“Did my counterpart not call you that?” Voldemort asked, intrigued. 

“What? No!” Harry cried, his face screwing up with revulsion. Voldemort frowned at the strange reaction. “He’d never! Why would you think that?” 

“I call Little One all kinds of pet names and terms of endearment,” Voldemort said, lightly running his hands through Little One’s inky black curls. Harry’s eyes widened as they met his counterpart. “But I suppose you’re too old for that now, hmm? I suppose you’ve hit the teenage rebellion and don’t want to spend any time with your father.” 

“With my _what_?!” Harry asked, his voice trembling. “Wait, why do you have baby me? Where’s… Where’s my dad? The house elf said my dad would be here!” 

“I am. I’m right here,” Voldemort said, tilting his head at the odd question. “What’s wrong, dear heart?” 

“No, no, no, no,” Harry started mumbling, jumping up from his place on the couch. “Wait, are you serious? Oh my god, please tell me you’re joking!” 

“About what?” Voldemort asked, leaning forward, carefully so as to not disturb Little One. “Harry are you alright?” 

“You’re not joking,” Harry said in an empty tone. “Oh my god. Oh my _god_. What the _fuck_?!”

“Harry! Language!” Voldemort scolded, aghast at the crass language. “What’s gotten into you? Didn’t your father teach you not to swear?” 

“No! He didn’t!” Harry suddenly shouted, startling Little One. “Because my father is dead! _You_ killed him!” 

“What?” Black asked, looking at Harry with shock. “Wait, James is dead in your world, too?” 

Oh yes, James Potter. Voldemort had forgotten all about the man. “No, I’m not talking about your birth father, Harry,” Voldemort said calmly. “Though, it is interesting that I’m the one who killed him in your world. I’m talking about your adopted father.” 

“My adopted father?” Harry parroted, his eyes wide. “I don’t have one. Wait, did… did you adopt baby me?!” 

“Of course I did!” Voldemort said, pulling Little One closer to him. “Little One is my son! Are you telling me that my counterpart did not adopt you?” 

Harry laughed bitterly. “He’s too busy trying to kill me.” 

Voldemort froze, his fingers twitching. “What?” he said, tone icy and dangerous. He watched as Harry stiffened at the question, his emerald eyes darting between Black and Lupin, silently pleading for help. “What did you just say?” 

“The Lord Voldemort of my world has been trying to kill me since I was a baby!” Harry said, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “You killed my mom and dad and then cast the killing curse on me, but it rebounded. That’s why I have this scar,” Harry said, gently touching the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. It was puffy and inflamed, looking like it’d been caused yesterday instead of years earlier. “Ever since then you’ve been hell-bent on killing me! Every year is one assassination attempt after the other!” 

“My counterpart didn’t adopt you?” Voldemort asked carefully, intentionally ignoring everything Harry just told him so that he didn’t explode with rage. 

“No!” 

“He’s been trying to… _kill_ you since you were a baby?” Voldemort continued, grinding his teeth at the very thought. 

“That’s what I just said!” Harry cried. 

“He tricked you into coming to the Department of Mysteries where you fought for your life and threw yourself through a rip of space and time?” Voldemort asked, ignoring the way both Lupin and Black stared at the pair, their mouths gaping wide with shock. 

“Why are you repeating everything I say?!” Harry demanded. “I just told you that!” 

“Because it is the most outlandish and ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Voldemort said. “Me? Training to kill you? My son? That doesn’t make any sense! Why on Earth would I ever try to kill a _baby_?!” 

“There was a prophecy, apparently,” Harry said. “That’s why you tricked me into going to the Ministry in the first place.” 

“A prophecy?” Voldemort repeated, his eyebrows drawn with confusion. “I remember hearing about a prophecy… I never listened to it. I figured it was just a desperate attempt from the Light to distract me from winning the war.” 

“Winning? Wait, you won the war?” Harry cried. 

“Did I not win in your world?” Voldemort asked before he paused. “No, I must not have if I listened to the prophecy. What could it have said that would make me try to kill a defenseless baby?!” 

“Well… You’re kind of insane in my world,” Harry said, slowly starting to pace the length of Voldemort’s sitting room. “I mean, like really insane. You’re like some crazy, homicidal snake-man.” 

“Snake-man?” Black asked with a frown. 

“Yeah, you performed a ritual in my Fourth Year,” Harry said, and suddenly his eyes were watering and his voice was choked. Voldemort leaned forward at the overwhelming look of grief in Harry’s eyes. “You, um, you kidnapped me and killed my friend in front of me before you used my blood in a ritual to give you a body. You came out looking like some weird, snake hybrid thing and then forced me to duel you.” 

Voldemort suddenly loathed his counterpart for doing that to Harry. Harry who was so much like his son, it physically hurt to see him so distressed. Harry’s hands shook, and tears began to roll down his cheeks. Voldemort ached to comfort him, but he knew that Harry would react badly to it. 

After all, he’s never known Voldemort as a father. Only as a crazy man set on killing him. 

“Oh Harry,” Black cooed, and suddenly Harry threw himself at Black, burying his face in the front of Black’s robes as he sobbed. Black began to rub comforting circles around his back. “Shh, it’s okay pup. Everything’s okay.” 

Voldemort seethed with jealousy at the sight, wanting nothing more than to pull Harry away from Black’s arms and hold him tight. He refrained, albeit difficulty, because he knew it wouldn’t help Harry at all. At the moment, Harry’s happiness and well-being are more important than Voldemort’s possessive desire to hold his son from another world. 

“Cedric died and no one would believe me!” Harry wailed, his broken tone causing Voldemort’s chest to clench. “Everyone keeps looking at me like a murderer, and Umbridge keeps giving me detentions and I can’t stop the bleeding for hours afterward and---” 

“Why are you bleeding in detention?” Voldemort asked, cutting off Harry's distressed tirade. 

Harry sniffled. “She makes me write lines with a weird quill,” Harry said, lifting his hand to display a gruesome scar that Voldemort’s hadn’t seen before. The words, _I must not tell lies_ were etched into the back of his son’s hands, and the sight of it filled Voldemort with murderous rage. “It uses my blood for ink.” 

“She’s making you use a blood quill?!” Lupin gasped. “But that’s illegal!” 

“She works for the Ministry,” Harry said sadly. “She’s the undersecretary for the Minister.” 

“That horrible woman! Torturing my godson!” Black snarled. “I’ll kill her! That---” 

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” Voldemort asked, cutting off Black’s angry remarks. “Surely another teacher would put a stop to it.” 

“They can’t. Umbridge is threatening their jobs now that Dumbledore’s gone.” Harry said with a sigh. “And even then, I wouldn’t tell anyone. I have to beat her myself, and they wouldn’t listen to me anyway. Everyone thinks I’m a liar.” 

“Dumbledore’s gone? He’s not the headmaster anymore?” Black asked. “Merlin, your world is messed up!” 

“Yeah, I know,” Harry agreed glumly.

“Why hasn’t your family done something about this?” Voldemort asked through his clenched jaw. “Surely your mom and dad noticed---” 

“My mom and dad are dead,” Harry interrupted with a glare. “Remember?” 

“Yes, but you must have been adopted afterward, right? What about Black? You said he was your godfather?” Voldemort asked. 

“Sirius was framed for their deaths,” Harry said, shaking his head. “He was sentenced to Azkaban.” 

“What?!” Black gasped, looking at Harry with shock. “Didn’t I get a trial?” 

Harry shook his head. “Nope. Everyone thought you were their Secret Keeper and betrayed them to Voldemort because you were his right hand. You were sentenced to Azkaban for life for being a Death Eater and killing thirteen muggles and Peter Pettigrew.” 

“What? But that’s...that’s insane!” Black exclaimed. 

“Yeah, I know,” Harry said, patting Black’s arm sympathetically. “I know the truth. Peter Pettigrew was the real Secret Keeper and Death Eater. You went after him and he framed you by blowing up the street, cutting off his finger and turning into a rat to escape.” 

“So if you weren’t with Black, who were you with?” Voldemort asked. 

“The Dursleys.”

Everyone froze, their eyes widening with horror at the answer Harry had given. Voldemort felt his magic lash out and break something, causing Harry to jump and look at him with shock. Voldemort could feel the rage that bubbled in his gut at the knowledge that Harry was once again left with those abusive monsters! 

“You’re staying with those muggle pieces of trash?!” Black cried. Harry frowned. 

“What are you---” 

“Are they abusive?” Voldemort asked, his voice surprisingly calm, but he knew his rage was not hidden. 

Harry froze, his face resembling that of a deer-in-headlights, his eyes wide with shock. “W-What? Why would you ask that?” 

“Because they were abusive in this world,” Voldemort said through his grit teeth. “They killed Little One!” 

Harry frowned, his eyes glancing down to look at Little One who sat peacefully in Voldemort’s lap, absentmindedly playing with a handful of flowers. Harry’s eyes widened when he caught the stitches on Little One’s neck. “He’s… Baby me is dead?” Harry asked in a hushed whisper. 

“Little One is an Inferius,” Voldemort answered. “Do you know what that is?” 

“Isn’t it like, um, a magical zombie?” Harry asked, his eyes darting back and forth between Little One and Voldemort. 

“Something like that,” Voldemort allowed. “Those muggles killed my son and I brought him back.” 

“Wow…” Harry breathed, his eyes wide. 

“Are they abusive in your world?” Voldemort repeated, refusing to be distracted. Harry stiffened at the question, eyes darting towards the ground. 

“I mean… It’s… Not really, they… It’s not a big deal,” Harry stuttered, his face red. “It’s fine. I can deal with it. Only a couple more years and then I’m gone!” 

“It is _not_ fine!” Voldemort shouted, causing Harry to jump. “It is abuse and you shouldn’t have to deal with it!” 

“Well it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Harry asked bitterly before he paused, his eyes lighting up. “Can I go back?” 

Voldemort froze. “You want to go back?” he asked, eyes wide. Why would Harry want to go back? Back to the abuse? Back to the mad man trying to kill him? Back to the loneliness and fighting? 

“That’s my home!” Harry cried. “All of my friends are probably really worried! They think I’m dead!” 

“You can’t go back!” Black cried, saying what everyone else was thinking. “Harry that place is hell! Stay here! You’ll be happy here! We can protect you and keep you safe!” 

“No! No, I have to go back!” Harry snapped, vehemently shaking his head. “That’s my home! I have responsibilities there! I can’t just forsake everyone and stay here!” 

“Isn’t that what you did when you jumped through the veil expecting death?” Lupin asked, causing Harry to freeze. 

“That’s… It’s---That’s different!” Harry cried, shaking his head. 

“I don’t know if we can send you back,” Voldemort said, interrupting the tense argument. “We have a veil here, as well, but sending you through could just as easily send you to an even worse world than the one you live in. Why not stay here with us? As Black said, we can keep you safe. You’ll be loved and happy here.” 

“Can’t you figure out a way?!” Harry demanded. “You’re Lord Voldemort!” 

“While your faith in me is humbling,” Voldemort said with a drawl. “To send you back to your world would take time. We’d need to study the veil and see how it works. Find out if it’s even possible to send you back.” 

“So do it!” Harry cried. “Please! I… I want to go home!” 

Voldemort's face softened. “Okay precious,” he said, ignoring Harry’s uncomfortable twitch at the endearment. “We’ll try. But it will take time. Why not stay here with us while we try to figure it out?” 

Harry shifted, his face drawn up in consideration. “You won’t… You won’t try and hurt me?” he asked carefully. Voldemort shook his head, angry at the thought. 

“No. Never.” he promised. 

“Okay… I’ll stay,” Harry said, and Voldemort could feel the triumph surge through him. “Just until you figure out how to send me home, then I’m leaving!” 

“Of course Harry,” Voldemort said, smirking victoriously. He would do as Harry said, and he would try to find a solution to their little problem, but he didn’t say he would tell Harry immediately. “I wouldn’t lie to you.” 

No, he wouldn’t lie to his new son. Of course not! He’d try and figure out a way to send Harry home, just as he promised. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try and convince Harry to stay with them as he did it. 

Who knew how long it’d take to find a way to send him home? Maybe Harry would be stuck here for the next few years? 

Voldemort smirked as he held out his hand for Harry to take. Harry eyed it suspiciously for a second before he accepted it, and Voldemort stood, adjusting his hold on Little One so that he now sat on Voldemort’s hip, one hand holding on to Harry and the other keeping a careful grip on Little One. Little One would have an older brother and Voldemort would have another son. 

Oh, how Fate smiled upon Lord Voldemort.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Dark Lord’s Castle  
8:37 AM**

Harry awoke slowly, his mind pleasantly fuzzy from a good night’s rest. It was strange for Harry to sleep well, especially lately, as he’s been so stressed out with school and avoiding Umbridge. Being constantly on edge wondering if your classmates would attack you for the slander the Daily Prophet had been spouting while avoiding a defense teacher bent on torturing you, was exhausting, but whenever Harry laid down to sleep in his dorm room, he was kept up from nightmares. That’s why, when Harry awoke to the birds chirping after a restful night’s sleep, Harry didn’t want to wake up. He sunk into the comfortable sheets and heavy duvet with a groan, wishing he could fall back asleep. Just as he was about to slink off into peaceful oblivion, however, the strange dream he had was called to mind.

He dreamed he went to the Department of Mysteries and fought a battle, losing Sirius to the veil before he jumped in after him, only to wake up in a different dimension where Lord Voldemort was his father! Harry cracked a smile at the ridiculous thought. He slowly opened his eyes and sat up on one elbow, reaching out to tug at Ron’s curtain next to him. 

“Hey Ron, I had the craziest dream---” Harry froze when he took in his surroundings, his eyes widening impossibly big as he looked around the lush guest room. He swallowed dryly as his mind came back to him, no longer fuzzy from lethargy. “Oh,” he said softly, his eyes tracing the Slytherin-green curtains. “Not a dream.” 

He carefully pulled back the soft comforter and duvet, shivering as his bare feet touched the cold stone floor. So it wasn’t a dream, after all. He really went through the veil and ended up in a completely different dimension where everything was completely different. And Sirius… Harry swallowed at the sudden swell of grief, and he had to blink back tears. His godfather was gone, probably in some other dimension where Harry could never find him again. 

Harry was all alone. Again. 

Harry walked around the guest room cautiously, forcibly throwing the depressing thoughts out of his mind. There would be time for grief later, but right now Harry needed to be careful and focused. Despite what the Voldemort of this world said, this could all be a trap, and Harry would be stupid to just accept everything he said as the truth. 

Just as Harry was working up the courage to open the door and explore, a loud pop startled him enough to make Harry stumble, his hand reflexively flying to his wand. He spun around to see a House Elf staring at him sheepishly. “Little One’s Papa is requesting Little One be eating breakfast,” the House Elf said. “Dottie be taking Little One to the dining room.” 

“Okay…” Harry said, tightly gripping his wand. “And my name is Harry. You can just call me Harry. He’s not… I’m not Little One.” 

Dottie just looked at Harry with confusion, her hands nervously tugging at her ears. “You and Little One have the same magic,” she said. “Yous being Little One and Little One being you.” 

“Um… right…” Harry said, his eyebrows drawn together. He supposed it made sense considering Harry was Little One from another dimension, but he was still a different person. “Okay, but could you please call me Harry?”

Dottie burst into tears at the question, and Harry panicked, his hands flying towards the hysterical House Elf. “Harry be so kind!” she wailed. Harry relaxed, realizing that her reaction was to his manners and not his question. “Dottie be taking Harry to the dining room, now. Kind Master Harry be following Dottie.” 

Harry followed Dottie throughout the grand hallways of the castle, and he took the sights in with wide eyes. The castle reminded Harry of Hogwarts only grander, with more lush decorations and windows. The castle itself seemed to be larger than Hogwarts, but it felt different. It felt more lived in. 

Dottie took him through the halls and into a grand dining room, a proud arch just below the ceiling instead of doors, and the wall on the right was made entirely of windows, showcasing the beautiful gardens outside. There was a magnificent chandelier that hung from the center of the dome-like ceiling, casting warm light on the mahogany dining table that ran the length of the room. Sitting at the head of the table was Voldemort, to his right was the baby version of Harry---Little One, the inferius---and sitting next to Little One was this world’s Sirius and Professor Lupin. 

“Good morning, dearest,” Voldemort said, looking up from his plate of eggs, bacon, and toast to smile at Harry. He lifted his hand to beckon Harry forward. “Come, sit. Breakfast is ready.” 

Harry eyed the empty seat by Voldemort’s left, a plate of steaming breakfast, making Harry’s stomach rumble. He took in a deep breath, steeling himself before he walked with purposeful strides to the empty seat. Voldemort looked delighted at Harry’s compliance and he smiled fondly at him when he sat down and began to eat. 

The food was delicious, and Harry ate greedily. Even with three full meals a day at Hogwarts, the effects of starvation from the Dursleys didn’t disappear. He ate, making sure to keep one arm wrapped around his plate subtly in case someone attempted to take his food away. Judging from the tense glances the adults shared, he didn’t make it subtle enough. 

Across the table from him, Little One smacked his spoon against his oatmeal, silently giggling at the wet noise it made. Harry watched him curiously, taking in the bright smile and open eyes on his younger doppelganger. Is this how Harry would have behaved if he had a good childhood? It was odd to think of Voldemort giving him a happy childhood. Little One suddenly looked up from his oatmeal to meet Harry’s gaze from across the table. Little One smiled at him, lifting his hand to wave at him. Harry smiled at the tot, waving his hand in response to the adorable child. 

“Did you sleep well?” Voldemort’s question brought Harry’s attention back to the table. He glanced at Voldemort, taking note of his pleased expression. 

“Er, yeah,” Harry said, caught off guard by the Dark Lord’s attention. “The room was nice.” 

“I'm glad you slept well,” Voldemort hummed, taking a sip of his tea. “I’m sorry you had to sleep in the guest room. I have my elves making your own bedroom in the family wing. They should be done by noon.” 

Harry froze. “Wait, what? Why would they do that?” 

Voldemort just smiled at Harry, and Harry bristled at the patronizing glint in the man’s eyes. “Well, you are my son, after all,” he said. “Of course you’ll have your own room.” 

“I’m not your son,” Harry said, clenching his hands into fists. “And I’m not staying, remember? You’re going to find a way to get me home. This is all temporary.” 

“Of course, precious. However, finding you a way home may take a while, so I thought you might prefer more permanent accommodations,” Voldemort said, betraying no emotions on his face save from the same fond grin he’d been wearing since Harry entered the dining room. “And as you are Little One from another dimension, technically you _are_ my son.” 

“I would prefer if you didn’t refer to me as such,” Harry said through grit teeth, the memory of his mother’s murder flashing in his head. “I have a father already, who died to protect me from _you_. I don’t need a replacement.” 

The atmosphere was tense as Harry glared at Voldemort’s unrepentant figure, Sirius and Professor Lupin watching the pair with wide eyes. Finally, Voldemort spoke, “Forgive me, Harry,” he said, placing his teacup down. “I meant no offense. However, I am not the Voldemort you know. I did not kill James and Lily Potter, nor did I attempt to cause you harm.” 

“So you can confuse me with your son but I can’t confuse you with my parent’s murderer?” Harry snapped. 

“It seems we are at an impasse,” Voldemort replied, leaning forward to wipe Little One’s face, as the toddler had managed to cover his mouth and cheeks with oatmeal. “I consider you my son and you consider me a mad man. I suppose we will have to work to make new perceptions of each other.” 

Harry stared at him, mouth agape as the Dark Lord cleaned a child’s messy face. It all seemed so surreal to him. He just insulted the Dark Lord, which in itself wasn’t odd, but the fact that the man hadn’t retaliated with an Unforgivable was. Was he dreaming? Perhaps this was just one big fever dream, and he was actually lying in one of Madam Pomfrey's hospital beds. 

“So Harry,” Sirius said, breaking the uncomfortable silence and drawing Harry’s gaze away from the Dark Lord and Inferius. “Tell me about yourself. You mentioned Hogwarts, right? What’s your favorite class? Do you have lots of friends? What about Quidditch?” 

Oh, right. This Sirius didn’t know anything about him. Harry nervously rubbed his scar as he spoke, wishing that he would just wake up from this crazy dream. “I guess my favorite class is Defense---even though every single Professor I’ve had tried to kill me---because I’m really good at it. I hate Potions, though. Snape’s a git. Um, I have two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. I’m the seeker for the Gryffindor team, but we haven’t got much practice this year because of Umbridge…” 

“Snivellus is a Professor?” Sirius cried, his face screwing up with disgust. “That’s insane! Is he still a grouchy dungeon bat?” 

“Yeah, a bit,” Harry said, taking another bite of his toast. “He hates me. He’s always docking Gryffindor points, even when we haven’t done anything. The man would probably dance on my grave.” 

“You’re the seeker?” Professor Lupin asked, stepping in before Sirius could insult Snape more. It seemed that Sirius hated Snape’s gut as much as he did in his own world. Somehow, the thought was comforting. “That’s wonderful! Are you any good?” 

“I’ve been the seeker since first year,” Harry said sheepishly. “Professor McGonagall says I’m a natural like my dad.” 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry could see Voldemort stiffen, his crimson eyes going hard for a second before he masked his emotions. Sirius just laughed, seemingly oblivious to the Dark Lord’s mood as he grinned. “Yeah, James was incredible on the broom! And, wow! Seeker since first year! I didn’t even know that was allowed!” 

“I was a special case,” Harry shrugged. “Drove Malfoy mad, though. He’s always been a prick, but he seems to get worse each year.” 

“Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?” Voldemort asked, looking at him with confusion. “You’re not friends?” 

“Friends? Merlin no!” Harry cried. “We hate each other! We’re always fighting. Our rivalry is legendary throughout Hogwarts.” 

“Hmm,” Voldemort nodded before he continued. “You mentioned that your Defense teachers try to kill you? Care to expand?” 

“Not much to talk about,” Harry shrugged. “They’re either working for you or almost kill me with their incompetence. Professor Lupin doesn’t count, though, his was accidental.” 

Professor Lupin spluttered. “What? Me?” 

“Yeah, in third year you forgot to take your potion on the full moon,” Harry said, ignoring their shocked faces. “But it wasn’t your fault. Third year was kind of crazy, what with the dementors and everything.” 

“Dementors?!” Sirius cried. “What were they doing at Hogwarts?!” 

“You escaped from Azkaban in my third year to go after Peter Pettigrew who was pretending to be my friend Ron’s pet rat,” Harry explained, taking a bite of his eggs. “The Minister sent the dementors to guard Hogwarts ‘cause everyone thought you escaped to kill me.” 

“That’s… That’s absolutely mental!” Sirius said, his eyes wide. “Your world is insane!” 

“Are you sure you want to go back there, Harry?” Voldemort asked. “After all, assassination attempts, war, abuse… None of those things sound very great.” 

“Well, I mean it’s a little hectic,” Harry allowed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “But there’s good things, too! I have my best friends! And… Well…” 

Voldemort sighed, his crimson eyes filled with pity as they stared at him. It was so unfamiliar to him, especially because Harry was used to the man staring down at him with murderous rage. Harry wasn’t sure how to proceed with that look, so he chose to clear his throat and return to his breakfast. 

“I didn’t mean to make you sad, dearest,” Voldemort said softly, and Harry stiffened. He wasn’t sad! He was frustrated! He didn’t understand what was going on, and everything was so different here! He just wanted to go home! _Not like I have much of a home, anyway_ , Harry thought with a bitter smile. “I apologize for pushing the subject.” 

“S’fine,” Harry mumbled, taking a final bite of breakfast before the plate was cleared. He looked at the empty plate for a second before he pushed it away. He was still a little hungry, but he wasn’t going to tell Voldemort that. “I wasn’t sad.” 

“Of course, dearest,” Voldemort agreed easily. He stood, then, his movement causing both Sirius and Professor Lupin to tense. “I’m afraid I have a business meeting with my Inner Circle today. Narcissa and Draco are coming over today to watch over Little One---” 

“The Malfoys?!” Harry sputtered, his eyes wide as he stared at the Dark Lord in front of him. “You let the Malfoys take care of baby-me?!” 

“Of course,” Voldemort said with a raised eyebrow. “Little One adores his Aunty Cissa.” 

Harry’s mouth opened and closed, his mind completely blank as he struggled to understand what was being said. “But… Malfoy… Git…” 

Voldemort chuckled. “Whatever feud you have with the Malfoys of your world,” he said with a fond grin. “I assure you they are different here. Why, Little One and Draco are friends.” 

“This world is so messed up…” Harry muttered to himself, his eyes wide and uncomprehending. “I’m friends with Malfoy. Voldemort’s my dad. What the hell?!”

“Darling, please refrain from such language,” Voldemort said with a cringe. (Well, as much as a dignified Dark Lord could cringe.) “It’s unbecoming of someone your stature.”

“What are you talking about, my stature?”

Voldemort opened his mouth to respond but suddenly thought better of it. “It’s nothing, love, finish your breakfast.” 

Harry eyed him suspiciously for a moment before he went back to his breakfast. He suspected the Dark Lord wanted to tell him that Harry was his son again, resulting in some sort of ‘royal treatment’ from everyone else. Harry was glad Voldemort caught himself before he said it. 

The rest of the breakfast was eaten in comfortable silence, no noise save for the clinking of utensils against dishes. Harry was reluctant to admit that the food was incredible---better than Hogwarts. He watched the way Voldemort and Little One behaved as he ate, taking in their strange interactions. 

Little One, to put it mildly, _adored_ Voldemort. Harry could see the love and affection his other self held for the Dark Lord, which wasn’t that strange considering this Voldemort had raised him for a very long time. What _was_ strange, however, was the equal, perhaps more so, affection that Voldemort held for Little One. 

The familiar love and paternal affection Voldemort bestowed upon Little One was overwhelming, and whenever the dark Lord bent down to wipe Little One’s face or kiss his head, Harry had to look away. He wasn’t built to handle that much affection, wasn’t sure how to deal with it. 

It was easier, Harry concluded, to pretend it didn’t exist. 

When breakfast was over and the House Elves had come and cleared everything away, Voldemort rose from his chair, carefully lifting Little One into his arms, where the toddler nuzzled into his neck and addressed Harry. 

“I’ll be leaving for my meeting in a moment,” he said, his voice regal. “I’ll have to explain what’s happened to my followers so they know who you are---”

“Wait, what?!” Harry cried, panicked once again. “You can’t! They’ll kill me! No one can know I’m here!”

Voldemort’s crimson eyes softened. “They won’t hurt you, dearest,” he said, moving his hand towards Harry’s face, probably to ruffle his hair or something, but the movement made Harry flinch, so Voldemort lowered it. “They won’t hurt you,” he repeated. “They adore Little One and I’m sure they’ll adore you.” 

Harry wanted to scream. Everything was wrong and different and he was _seriously freaking out_! Voldemort loved him, those crazy Death Eaters were his babysitters, and apparently, Draco I-am-a-ponce Malfoy was his friend! 

“I want to go home,” Harry whispered pitifully, fighting the urge to cry. He wasn’t sure why he felt so sad all of the sudden, but all of the drastic differences of this world were suddenly overwhelming. 

Suddenly, Harry was wrapped up in a warm hug. The sudden physical affection made Harry flinch before he sunk into it, his eyes watering at the feeling. When was the last time he had a hug? Harry couldn’t remember at all. He sniffled, and he could feel Voldemort’s hand gently card through his black curls, and the feeling made Harry, ironically, feel safe. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Voldemort whispered, tightly hugging Harry to his chest. “It will be alright. Everything will be fine, dearest, I promise. I’m here now.” 

As Harry melted into the hug of the Dark Lord, a toddler inferius reaching across the man’s chest from his position in his arms to lightly pat Harry’s cheek, Harry missed the dark, possessive look that flitted over Voldemort’s face as he stared down at Harry.

* * *

“Now then,” Voldemort said, gesturing for his followers to rise. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called you here on such short notice. I am in need of some assistance.” 

“We live to serve you, My Lord,” Bellatrix said, her eyes shining with crazed devotion. 

“Yesterday morning an intruder arrived on my grounds,” Voldemort said, ignoring the way his Inner Circle tensed, Bellatrix suddenly cackling with glee. “This intruder, much to my surprise, turned out to be Little One from another world.” 

Everyone in the room froze, their eyes widening as they stared at Voldemort with disbelief. “L-Little One, My Lord?” Lucius dared to ask. 

“Quite,” Voldemort said with a curt nod. “It appears in his world, he is fighting a war with the Dark Lord. He was lured into a trap and fell through a rift in space, resulting in him ending up here.” 

“Little One’s grown?” Bellatrix asked with awe. “Ickle baby is all grown up?!”

“Little One is fifteen,” Voldemort said, ignoring the happy gasps coming from his followers. “However, we are in a dilemma. In his world, Voldemort has been trying to kill him since he was a baby---” The hissed gasps interrupted him, but Voldemort paid no mind. “---as well as the members of his Inner Circle. He is understandably… wary.”

“What is the task you seek of us, My Lord?” Rabastian asked, looking eager. 

“Little One wants to go back to that world, I promised him I would try,” Voldemort said. “I want you all to look for it while I convince him he should stay. Please, take your time. It may be a while before I can convince him he’ll be happy here.” 

“Is there any other information you can give us, My Lord?” Severus asked. 

“He said he came here through the veil at the Department of Mysteries,” Voldemort said. Severus nodded. “One more thing before I dismiss you,” Voldemort added. “The Voldemort of his world never adopted him, and because he never died, he still goes by his birth name.”

Voldemort could see his Inner Circle shift with anticipation. Little One’s birth name was something he kept close to his chest, and it was something that all of them wanted to know. As reluctant as he was to share something personal about his son with his Inner Circle, Harry would only respond to his given name. 

“Should you see a teenager walking around that looks like Little One,” Voldemort continued. “He will only answer to the name Harry Potter.”

Voldemort watched as his Inner Circle comprehended those words, their eyes widening. Voldemort knew Severus held some kind of affection for the late Lily Potter, so watching the man crumble under the knowledge that his lost love’s child had been murdered was truly a sight. 

Voldemort sighed, moving his hand to dismiss his Death Eaters when a House Elf popped into the room, frantic. “Master!” she cried. “Somethings being wrong with Harry!”

Voldemort was moving before the elf could finish her sentence. She said something was wrong with his son, the son he had only just received, and he knew he needed to help. Voldemort speed-walked out of his meeting Hall towards the common room where he knew Little One, Harry, Draco and Narcissa would be, not caring that his Inner Circle was following him.

The scene he was greeted with when he entered would haunt his nightmares. 

Harry was arched on the floor, writhing in complete agony as he clawed at his face, blood dripping down his forehead coming from his angry, red scar. He was screaming with pain, and he could see Narcissa struggling to help him, Draco and Little One curled up on the floor crying with fear. 

“Harry!” Voldemort cried, racing to his son. “Harry, what’s happening? Harry?”

“AGHHH!” Harry screamed. “Vision…. Voldemort… Hurts!”

Voldemort, completely unrepentant, forced Harry’s eyes open and dove into his mind. He needed to know what was wrong with his child, and Harry was in no state to tell him. 

_“Find the Potter boy!” a voice hissed. Voldemort turned to see a hideous, reptilian man giving orders to a group of Death eaters. No. This couldn’t be…_

_“We will find him, My Lord,” a woman dressed in tattered robes cried. Bellatrix?_

_The reptilian man screeched and threw a Cruciatius at her, and Voldemort watched with disgust as Bellatrix writhed in agony and pleasure. “FIND HIM!” the distorted Voldemort demanded. “FIND HIM AND BRING HIM TO ME SO I CAN KILL HIM!”_

Voldemort ripped himself out of Harry’s head with a gasp, watching with relief as Harry finally collapsed to the floor with a pitiful sob. “It’s all right, love,” Voldemort whispered gently, pulling Harry’s body so that he could rest in his lap. “There’s a good boy, it’s all right. I’m here now, you’re safe.”

He continued to comfort him until Harry fell into a fretful sleep. With Harry dozing on his lap, Voldemort looked up at his followers, all of them staring in raging degrees of disbelief at the teen. Voldemort grit his teeth, rage flashing through his body, white and hot. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” he hissed, drawing their attention back to him. “Find a way back to Harry’s world as soon as possible.”

“My Lord?”

“It seems I have a Dark Lord to kill,” Voldemort said, his eyes flashing red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe, new chapter!!!! I hope you enjoyed this, and get ready for the final chapter coming soon-ish! Thank you all for reading and all of your comments, they really inspired me! Please leave a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed this chapter, they really help!!!! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! Honestly, this idea has been stuck in my head for a while now, and I just had to write it. I hope you all enjoyed it! Please leave a kudos and a comment if you did! Also, should I continue this? Let me know if you'd be interested in reading more. 
> 
> Thank you all so much! :)


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